


When I Go Out With You

by Dojh167



Series: Polyverse [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual, But it's mostly cute I promise, Cheating, Coming of Age, Community: HPFT, Emotional Abuse, F/F, F/M, Feminist, Lesbian, Multi, Polyamory, ethical non-monogamy, grown ups need to come of age too, micro fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 15:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 12,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7111084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dojh167/pseuds/Dojh167
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <br/>
    <em>I'm young and I love to be young</em>
    <br/>
    <em>I'm free and I love to be free</em>
    <br/>
    <em>To live my life the way I want</em>
    <br/>
    <em>To say and do whatever I please</em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>- A Hannah Abbott Story -<br/>Inspired by the music of Lesley Gore</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fools Rush In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sandel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandel/gifts).



>   
> _Written for toomanycurls' Inspired By A Song (That You Parents Probably Listened To) Challenge_  
>  _[Here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLGsh-fMJ2dIfC4wVVV_X3I7cE5KBnd1Jy) you will find a playlist of the songs that inspired each chapter under the account Dojh167. The music set both the tone and plot of the story, and I highly recommend listening to it, with or without this story._  
>  _Lyrics for this chapter are from "Fools Rush In" by Lesley Gore._  
>   
>  Banner by .amaris@TDA  
> 

  


  
_Fools rush in_  
_Where wise men never go_  
_But wise men never fall in love_  
_So how are they to know?_  


“Susan.”

“Hannah.”

The words fall from our lips like petals from flowers that have gone untouched for too long.

It’s been five years since Hogwarts, five years since I’ve seen Susan Bones. As we stand transfixed among the constant movement of Diagon Alley my thoughts run in every direction. I remember fighting at her side against monsters and villains. I remember late nights studying together with peppermint cocoa. I remember the way she curls her toes when she giggles.

We embrace, and our touch is filled with the sentimental warmth of sisters and friends. But as we pull apart my skin quivers under the touch of her lingering fingers, filling me with a completely new sensation.

I automatically avert my blushing face, but a moment later my eyes are drawn back in to hers, entranced by her gaze. My doubts fall away as I see my eager fascination echoed in her face. There is a light in her eyes that keeps me searching – it is buried deep inside, beyond twists and turns, but it is there and it is glowing for me.

My lips tremble as I search for the right words to say. I know in my blood that she is feeling the same electric energy as me, but I have no idea what to do with that knowledge. Inside me there is a silent battle between what I believe is proper and what I feel is real.

“Susan, I don’t…”

She smiles, her lips parted just wide enough for a shadow of breath to steadily seep through. Even with a foot between us, I can almost imagine the way that gentle breath would feel on my own skin.

The rest of the world seems to have melted away. In a distant part of my mind I know that we are still in that familiar street of our childhoods, and that all around us the calls of vendors and children must reverberate. But now none of that can reach us.

“Come on,” Susan whispers. Her voice is so soft that I know I should not be able to hear it, yet somehow it resonates through every cell in my body.

Susan turns and leads me into the Leaky Cauldron. She does not take my hand, but I find myself automatically pulled along behind her as strongly as if she had. As we pass into the pub my eyes wander towards the stairs up to the inn. Susan, however, simply leads me to a battered old table at the edge of the room.

I sit down across from her, my ankles flexing in uncertainty.

Here in the dim indoors the small light hidden in Susan’s eyes shines even brighter than before. My breath is shallow, taken away both by the allure of my friend and surprise at my own feelings.

With a slow, steady movement Susan reaches both arms across the table and takes my hands in hers, fulfilling the earnest desire that has been building in my skin since it lost contact with hers.

Nothing else matters in this moment.


	2. Sunshine, Lollipips, and Rainbows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

 

  
_Sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows_  
_Everything that’s wonderful_  
_Is what I feel when we’re together_  


  
  
As my heels echo against the pavement on my way back from Diagon Alley, I cannot hold back the growing smile on my face. The taste of peppermint cocoa is on my lips, my heart is glowing, and the sun is setting just as I arrive home.  
  
As I open the door to our flat, my smile bursts into a jubilant laugh as I bound forward.  
  
“Hello, lovely,” I croon, throwing my arms around Ernie’s neck.  
  
I swell with warmth as he greets me with joyous laughter, which resonates through both of our chests as we embrace. He lovingly pulls the hair away from my eyes as he cups my face in his hands. “Excited to see me?” he asks, nipping my lips with a quick kiss.  
  
“Always!” I kiss him back with an enthusiastic giggle.  
  
“Well, my lady,” he says, taking me by the hand as he leads me to the kitchen. I hoist myself up to sit on the counter as Ernie turns to me with a dramatic flourish. “Tonight I’ve assembled a delicious delicatessen available for all your dining desires.” I bite back my laughter to keep from interrupting his jest. “To ease your palette into this unparalleled experience we have an extensive array of the most exotic of common crisps and nuts. For your main course I’ve prepared the finest leftover mutton I’ve seen all month. And this will all be followed up with an unrivaled desert of the finest canned peaches.”  
  
“Mm..” I lick my lips, playing along. “You really went all out for me.”  
  
“Nothing but the finest for my lady.”  
  
“Shut up,” I say, taking hold of the neck of his robes to pull him towards me. He does not resist as I thank him with a kiss, much slower and deeper than the pecks we greeted each other with.  
  
“Someone’s already had her sweets,” he whispers, tasting the chocolate on my breath.  
  
“Peppermint cocoa. I ran into Susan today.” I blush slightly, but remind myself that I have nothing to be ashamed of.  
  
“Really?” Ernie drops his romantic play as he steps back in surprise. “I haven’t seen her since… Must’ve been graduation.”  
  
“Me neither.” I am pleased to have a reason to talk about her, to shape my lips around the name that lingers in my mind. “But we ran into each other in Diagon Alley. We talked for quite a while.”  
  
“Good.” Ernie nods politely. I know that the two of them have never been close, but they always had the decency not to say anything against each other.  
  
“I’d like to see her again.” I speak timidly, a hint of a question in my voice.  
  
“Well, sure.” He turns to take out plates for dinner. “It’s not like you have to ask permission to see your friends.”  
  
I smile warmly at him as I dip my finger into the peach can, sucking the smooth juice off my finger. “I think we should start with dessert.”  
  
“Yeah?” Ernie whispers, stepping slowly towards me.  
  
“Yeah,” I respond with muted coyness.  
  
He pulls me into his amorous arms.“I fucking love you.”  
  
I weave my hands into his, our fingers locking into their familiar position together. So comfortable, so complete.  
  
“I fucking love you too.”


	3. It's a Happening World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "It's a Happening World" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

 

  
_So come along with me_   
_You can be as young as you want to be_   
_Oh yeah, throw convention away_   
_And you’ll have a ball just being a part of today_   


  
  
Susan and I lay in the neighborhood muggle park, our bare toes playing freely in the long grass. This is the third weekend in a row that we’ve seen each other, and we have already fallen into the most beautiful rhythm together.  
  
At first I thought it was as if no time had bad passed since we had parted ways at Hogwarts. But that is not it at all. So much time has passed, and in that time we have somehow grown into people who fit so seamlessly together. Whatever it is that we have now, it is totally new.  
  
In the distance a blue jay chases a squirrel across the path. Susan throws her head back with uninhibited laughter, the sunlight dancing playfully against her wavering chestnut hair. I love that laugh. Like everything that she does, it is one hundred percent her, with no excuses, no apologies.   
  
“Ernie thinks we’re just friends,” I confess all at once.  
  
Susan considers for a serene moment. “Are we not?”  
  
I avoid her eyes as I twiddle my fingers amid the grass. “Hannah,” she says sharply, drawing my face up to hers; those deep mahogany eyes pierce me with sharp discernment. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”  
  
“I know, I know,” I flounder. “But this way I feel…”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Is…”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Beautiful.”  
  
“Beautiful.” She repeats the word slowly, her lips moving the same pattern as mine. “And that’s a bad thing?”  
  
I give an exasperated sigh. Susan always tries to make things so simple in such a complicated way. “Well, yes.” I make an effort to put more certainty in my voice than I feel in my heart. “Because I’m with Ernie. I love Ernie.”  
  
“And so what if you love me too?” Susan asks slowly. She leans towards me, stopping my breath short as I take in her face, her hair, her breasts.  
  
“I can’t love you,” I whisper, my eyes wide.  
  
She shakes her head sadly. “You feel what you feel. There’s no putting rules on that. How you act on those feelings is up to you.”  
  
“But Ernie…” I repeat, almost at a whine.  
  
“Is a grown man, capable of having adult conversations,” Susan snaps back. She hesitates, then continues in gentler tone. “Look. Hannah. How your relationship functions is entirely between the two of you. But we both know that you and I have a thing – ”  
  
“A thing,” I repeat, the unspoken possibilities of the word delicious on my tongue.  
  
“Exactly.” Susan smiles that bright, gorgeous smile that carries no doubts. “I live by the choice of freedom. You are living by the choice of exclusivity. But you have to remember that it’s a choice, one that you make for yourself. And you take into account all of the feelings you have in your heart and all of the – things – you have with others.”  
  
“And then what?” I ask meekly, intimidated by the scope of possibilities in her world.  
  
“Then you do as you choose.”  
  
I smile at the beautiful simplicity of her words and the worlds of possibility that they hold. “Your way of living is kind of beautiful, isn’t it?”  
  
“Living is kind of beautiful, period. People just complicate it by making up rules and pretending it’s not.”


	4. You Didn't Look 'Round

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "You Didn't Look 'Round" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

  
_I was trying not to cry_  
 _And let my feelings show_  
 _You didn’t look ‘round_  
 _So you wouldn’t know_  


  
  
  
“You don’t have to go, do you?” I coo from the bed, my feet poking playfully out from under the skewed sheets.  
  
Ernie laughs affectionately as he searches for a clean pair of socks. “Of course I have to go, Han, it’s Monday.”  
  
“Monday morning,” I specify as adorably as I can manage. “So really, it’s practically still the weekend.”  
  
He leans over to kiss my forehead as he jams his left foot into its shoe. “You are obscenely cute. But remember that employment thing? Kind of goes hand in hand with the paying the bills thing?”  
  
“Ah yes, mighty breadwinner!” I laugh as I fall back into the deep cushioning of feathered pillows behind me. “Go boldly unto the lands of Panels and Authorities! Regulate those floo networks! Bring back much bounty!”  
  
Ernie shakes his head as he passes into the washroom with a smile. As he disappears my laughter swiftly subsides. I occupy my hands by playing with the folds of the sheet over my naked body, but my face remains intently focused.  
  
“You know,” I call through the open door in what I hope passes for a casual tone, “Susan was telling me about, uh, polyamory.”  
  
“That’s not a real thing,” he responds promptly.  
  
“Oh, you haven’t heard of it?” I ask, mentally reviewing the conversations I have had with Susan and searching for the best way to explain it to Ernie.  
  
“No,” he calls back. “It’s just made up gibberish. I thought you were smarter than to listen to that kind of talk.”  
  
“Oh.” My heart sinks at his words. I take a moment to consider how to respond, and then the moment passes and I remain silent.  
  
I stay complacently in my position in bed and kiss my boyfriend goodbye as he leaves for work, but I am relieved when he is gone. Well, what did I expect? Susan is a unique flower – it’s no surprise that the rest of the world doesn’t think like she does. Maybe I’m the fool to think that I could. Yes, that’s all.  
  
I put a smile on my face and climb out of bed, my mood decently improved. And now I have the flat to myself until the evening. I wander lightly into the next room, wondering how I will pass my time today.  
  
“Of course.” I laugh as I step into the kitchen and see that Ernie has left his packed lunch behind. Well, it won’t do me any harm to get out of the house. I pull on a set of traveling robes and grab the lunch bag. I pause for a moment and then grab a can of peaches from the shelf and add it to the bag.  
  
I apparate to Whitehall and take the visitor’s entrance down to the Ministry Headquarters. I’ve made this trip many times before, to meet or surprise Ernie. As the telephone booth descends into the ground I realize that it must have been almost two months since I’ve stopped by his work. Well, it’s a good thing I brought the peaches.  
  
As I check in my wand at the security desk and take the lift to Level Six, I wonder what act I should put on for my boyfriend today. I could be the wide eyed delivery girl, the hardened executive, the saucy temptress… Then again, perhaps it is a bit early in the day for that. If nothing else I can always leave the bag with his assistant Norma.  
  
Before I have a chance to decide, Ernie emerges from his office and drops a stack of papers on Norma’s desk. My walk turns into a skip and my smile transforms to a grin as I grow closer to him and then, all at once, it stops. I halt mid-stride, dumbstruck, as I see Ernie kiss Norma right before my eyes.  
  
I stand frozen and transfixed, waiting. Waiting to be proven wrong, waiting for the apologies and the explanations, waiting for it to end.  
  
But he doesn’t even see me.


	5. I'm Coolin', No Foolin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "I'm Coolin, No Foolin'" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

  
_My fate was to obey_  
 _The moment that you made the date_  
 _But I’m coolin’, yes, I‘m coolin’_  
 _No foolin’, I’m coolin’ for you_  


  
  
“Who the fuck does he think he is? Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I pace up and down Susan’s narrow bedroom, swearing intermittently.  
  
Each time I shout, Susan looks up from her bed with a mild combination of concern and amusement, before turning to the next page of Witch Weekly. And then Spella Weekly. And then Charmer’s Digest. Okay, yes, I’ve been doing this for a while.  
  
“He’s an aresehole,” I swear under my breath, as if changing my tone will change my circumstances.  
  
“A total arsehole,” Susan repeats, humoring me.  
  
I turn indignantly on her, but the moment I see her lying there with her hair and her eyes and her face, I know I can’t even pretend to be angry at her. I drop onto the other side of the bed, shoving the pillows behind my throbbing head.  
  
“What is wrong with me?” I whine, the rage drained from my voice. “I can’t be mad at you. I can’t even be mad at him!”  
  
“This isn’t mad?” Susan asks, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“Well, yeah…” I stagger, “But not at him. I mean, okay yeah, I’m furious. But I still care about him?”  
  
Susan doesn’t respond – not a word, not a move. I sigh and continue, “Maybe I’m mad at me. I must’ve been so stupid not to see it.”  
  
Susan shrugs. “You were happy.”  
  
“Exactly!” I cry, sitting up. “I was stupid!”  
  
Susan reaches across the bed and takes my hand. “You’re the most contradictory person I’ve ever known,” she whispers in that mystical tone that makes anything sound like a compliment.  
  
“Me? You’re Miss Commitment-Doesn’t-Mean-Exclusivity.”  
  
Susan simply smiles.  
  
“Maybe he is like you - polyamorous,” I suggest desperately. “He didn’t want to acknowledge it, but maybe that’s why – ”  
  
Susan shakes her head sadly. “You were closer with the aresehole bit. The no honesty thing is a bit of a giveaway there.”  
  
I groan, thumping the back of my head against the backboard. “How do you do it?” I demand. “I mean, I can hardly handle one relationship. How on earth can you cope with more? All that heartbreak – ”  
  
“Isn’t the end of the world,” Susan interjects. “Really. I know it seems like your world is ending, because you let Ernie be your world…”  
  
Oh goodness, is that what I did? It is, isn’t it?  
  
“I don’t know how to be me without him,” I confess in whispered shame, taking in the truth of the words as I say them.  
  
Susan slides forward and wraps her arms around my waist, embracing me in a reassuring silence.”Don’t you worry,” she breathes. “You’ll learn.”  
  
In my sadness I can hardly believe her words, but in her arms everything becomes a little easier. She seems to understand this, as she does not let go as we slowly recline together until we are lying on the bed side by side.  
  
In the moments before my mind drifts into sleeping oblivion, I realize that this is the first time in years that I will not be spending the night in Ernie’s bed. My last coherent thought is that might not be such a bad thing after all.


	6. I Won't Love You Anymore (Sorry)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "I Won't Love You Anymore (Sorry)" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

  


  
_I think now I see that you’re over me_  
_Our love is a lie, I hope you understand why_  
_I won’t love you anymore (Sorry)_  
_And now I’m leaving today_  


Okay, so maybe I’ll give Ernie one more shot. Or maybe not?

Either way, I have to see him again, at least to get my things.

I mean, we were together for seven years. That’s not something I can just walk out on. Right?

I don’t have the answers. Susan says she’s not the one who can give them to me.

Maybe I’ll give Ernie a bit of my mind. Maybe he’ll apologize. Maybe we’ll have a chance to rebuild things. Maybe I’ll punch him in the face. Maybe he’ll let me also be with Susan. Maybe I’m thinking too much and doing too little.

As I arrive at the flat that I so recently thought I would always call home, the storm within me comes to a freeze. Ernie is nowhere to be seen; there is only this empty home and its empty feelings. Everything here looks exactly as I left it, and as I walk through the familiar rooms I can’t help but wonder if I am as unchanged.

I am certainly wiser than before. I know that Ernie has not played by the rules he set, and I see how easily I allowed myself to play into his hand.

But even knowing all that, I can’t help but wish I could melt right into the me I used to be. After all, I was happy in this place, as naïve a I may have been. I may never be able to find that same simple, contented joy elsewhere. What was so wrong with letting Ernie set the rules if it meant I would be happy?

I walk into the bedroom in a daze, continuing on the automatic track to pack up my things. As I pull open the wardrobe and see my robes nestled against his, I let out a dry sob.

I can’t touch a single one of these things, can’t remove them from their rightful place.

I was a fool to think I could change. This is my life, this is my place. I belong with Ernie. Mistakes have been made, but he is still my world and I am still his. I belong to him.

There is a sudden pop in the next room, and I realize that Ernie has arrived home.

“Ernie?” I call out in a cracked voice.

There is a moment of silence, and then he appears in the bedroom door.

“Oh. You’re back,” he says simply.

I nod, at a complete loss for words.

I remind myself that I don’t have to say anything. He is the one who has lied and cheated, he is the one who owes me an explanation.

“How long have you been wearing those robes? You should change – you look like a tramp.”

I stare in dumb silence at him. I blink once, twice. It takes me a minute to find my voice, but when I do the words are inevitable.

“I’m out.”

Now Ernie is the one sounding frozen and dumb as I push past him out of the room and out of our home, not looking back.

I know there is something better for me out there.

 

* * *


	7. Don't Call Me, I'll Call You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "Don't Call Me, I'll Call You" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

 

  
_I may be wrong_   
_But just as long as I can have my say_   
_I won’t be true to only you_   
_It’s gotta be that way_   


  
  
  
  
The first time Susan and I kissed changed my life.  
  
I had never kissed a girl before, had never kissed anyone but Ernie. I have felt breathtakingly close to Susan since we reconnected in Diagon Alley, and nothing felt more surreal in its perfection than that connection taking physical form. In that single moment, who I was melted away and I felt the possibilities of who I could be swim before me in her lips.  
  
But that was not the kiss that defined the beginning of our relationship.  
  
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Susan tells me over dinner.  
  
“Well…” I poke reluctantly at the food on my plate as I avoid her gaze. “You kissed her.”  
  
Susan nodded slowly, as if pointing out the obvious. “And?”  
  
“Well, it’s just that…Llast night, with the candles and the music and everything… I thought we had something really special.”  
  
“We do!” Susan jumps in, reaching forward to grab my hand. “We had a wonderful, beautiful time last night. And we are having a lovely time tonight. And yes, I saw Charice this afternoon, and yes, I kissed her.”  
  
I can feel my face flush at her words, overcome by an unwelcome flood of fear and insecurity.  
  
Susan sighs. “Hannah, you know this is how I do things.”  
  
“I know, I know,” I say quickly. “But I guess I wasn’t ready. I mean, after Ernie – ”  
  
“Ernie lied and Ernie cheated. I will never do either of those things,” she says with patient kindness. “Yes, I will see other girls. I may kiss them, I may love them. But that doesn’t change what I do or feel when I am with you.”  
  
“Which is?” I ask, tentatively glancing up at her, my face contorted in uncertainty.  
  
Susan considers. “I may kiss you. I may love you.”  
  
Despite myself, I giggle bashfully at her words. “You may,” I concede.  
  
Smiling, Susan leans over the table and obediently kisses my lips. This kiss may not have the mystical novelty of the previous night’s first kiss, but it has something untouchably its own. It has honesty, it has understanding.   
  
As she pulls away, my head hangs suspended in the space of our kiss, my eyes still closed in earnest relaxation. I feel Susan’s warm fingers trace my left cheek, and I feel my own lips twist into a quiet smile in response.  
  
All at once I am back in Diagon Alley, my breath struck from my chest as I see her so clearly. The girl I hadn’t thought to miss, the girl I never considered I’d love, the girl who is n ow the star that I wish upon.  
  
“You’re so precious, Hannah, and I will never hurt you,” Susan whispers. For a moment I almost believe that her words are coming straight from the touch of her skin.  
  
“I may love you,” I whisper before I can question my words.  
  
I feel her response throughout my body, first as her fingers tighten their grasp on my cheek, then as her lips join mine in speech and touch.


	8. One By One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "One By One" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

  
_One by one_  
_The rules I made are crumbling away_  
_One by one_  
_The walls I built are tumbling away_  


  
  
Slowly, smoothly, my body twists around Susan’s, responding to her every move. I go where she leads me, I give her what she wants from me.  
  
I have let her bring me to the All Hallow’s Eve party at The Leaky Cauldron. The lights are dim and the air is thick. The only thing that seems to exist for me is Susan’s face as we spin about the dance floor, our dress robes sweeping along behind us.  
  
I am hers in body and in soul, and yet I am more my own than I have ever been.  
  
As the final chords of the song fade away, my face falls into a bashful smile.  
  
“What is it?” Susan cocks her head to the side.  
  
“Oh, nothing,” I giggle. “It’s just that I can’t look at you without thinking ‘She’s beautiful, she’s beautiful, she’s beautiful…’”  
  
Susan laughs with me, and I feel the magnetic force of her pull me in for an embrace. My torso is warmed by her arms, my heart is warmed by her lips.  
  
“You’re hopeless,” she whispers.  
  
“Hopeless?” My lips play their now favorite game of mirroring hers.  
  
“Completely,” my lover affirms.  
  
“Well, then…” I say, rocking back and forth to my own beat, “I suppose I wouldn’t be able to get my own drinks.”  
  
Susan lets out a laugh, loud with adoration. “Wait here.”  
  
Left on my own, I sway back and forth, playing with my skirt as I do so. I am so happy and content tonight, both to be here with Susan, and also just to be here as me. The world feels so alive, and every face around me seems to glow with beautiful possibility.  
  
This isn’t just being in love. This is my eyes being opened as I feel the full possibilities of the world around me and, for the first time in my life, choose to fully accept them.  
  
I can see Susan across the bar, ordering our drinks. The bartender is a witch with short black hair, wearing a fitted vest with no other shirt. She is cute in her own way, but nothing compared to Susan. I watch adoringly as my darling throws her head back in laughter.  
  
It occurs to me that Susan must be flirting.  
  
It next occurs to me that this does not bother me.  
  
I take a moment to experience and accept the emotions that come with these observations. My smile does not falter. Susan is so cute when she flirts.  
  
I dance on my own, my arms moving freely and experimentally with the music. My gaze occasionally returns to the bar, but out of curiosity, not jealousy. In time Susan returns to me, and we drink and dance the night away in jubilant frivolity.  
  
As the night winds down, I find myself perched against the wall, leaning on Susan’s shoulder as we watch other lovers dance their own rhythms.  
  
“He looks cute,” I whisper playfully to Susan as my eyes track a tall brunette pushing through the crowd towards the bar.  
  
“Oh my goodness.” My jaw drops, thoroughly impressed. “That’s Neville Longbottom!”  
  
Susan smiles.


	9. Run Bobby Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "Run Bobby Run" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

  
_Don’t be tempted by her charms_  
 _Run Bobby run_  
 _If you find her in your arms_  
 _Run bobby run_  


  
  
“Okay, dating,” I say with a deep breath. “Dating, dating, dating… How do you do dating?”  
  
Susan laughs affectionately at me as she tucks my loose hair behind my ear, her eyes not straying from my own for so much as a blink. “You’re no novice, love.”  
  
“Yeah, well,” I sputter in objection, “Ernie and I were together forever, and you and I… Well, didn’t really do the courtship part, we just fell into being… in love.”  
  
A kiss.  
  
“You’re a natural,” Susan assures me with the confidence that holds memories of each moment we’ve shared together.  
  
“You flatter,” I blush, planting another tender kiss on her bare shoulder that seems to glow in the late morning sunlight.  
  
“Oh?” She breathes back, “With rewards like that I’ll be sure to keep it up…”  
  
“Just one minute, you seductress!” I brandish my finger in mock threat at her scrumptious face. “Your wily ways will not distract me – we were talking about how to get Neville Longbottom into my bed!”  
  
“Right, right. We’ve got this.” Susan straightens up in concentration, showing little concern as the sheet slides down her chest, revealing a pair of perfectly formed breasts. I don’t complain either, though it does little to help my focus.  
  
“It’s just a matter of getting you two in the same room,” Susan coaches me, pulling my attention back up to her lips. “Well, in the same room and also talking to each other.”  
  
“I suppose that would help,” I admit, the corner of my mouth twisting with anticipatory shyness.  
  
“And you’ll bring a friend,” Susan goes on. “You know, the kind you’re not sleeping with.”  
  
“Right… To not freak him out?” I ask thoughtfully.  
  
“And to keep you from getting distracted,” she teases me, placing a dainty kiss on the tip of my nose. “He won’t be able to resist you. Trust me.”  
  
I can’t help but giggle under Susan’s adoring treatment of me. It seems I never stop giggling these days, and when the smile is not on my lips it is always on my heart. And today my heart’s smile seems to be larger than ever as I try to comprehend what an amazingly lucky lady I am. I have the most amazing relationship with the most amazing woman, and all that she seems to want is for me to continue to become more amazing.  
  
I crawl back under the sheet with Susan, my senses titillating at the feel of her naked warmth against mine as I run my meticulously smooth calf against the careless prickles of her casually neglected leg.  
  
“What do you think Neville would do if he saw us talking about him like this?” Susan asks.  
  
I consider for a moment, thinking back to how I felt when I met Susan in Diagon Alley and all the things I didn’t know lay ahead. There only seems to be one possible answer to her question. “Run. Run like hell.”  
  
Susan almost chokes on her own laughter. “Dear me. Do you think we should warn him?”  
  
“Don’t you dare.”


	10. Sometime I Wish I Were A Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "Sometimes I Wish I Were A Boy" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

  
_I’ve been standing by the jukebox_   
_Hoping he’d ask me to dance_   
_How I wish I could run to him and hug him_   
_But a girl mustn’t make an advance_   


  
  
I am at the Leaky Cauldron bar with Sally-Anne. Susan has made me come here with a different friend every Friday night this month in the hope that Neville would show his face again at some point. So far, however, it has amounted to an exercise in the awkwardness of reconnecting with old friends. My current preoccupation with who on earth I will invite next weekend suddenly evaporates as Sally-Anne jabs at my side and points towards the door.  
  
“Isn’t that the bloke we’re stalking?” she whispers in excited conspiracy.  
  
“Yes, and hush!” I whisper back, my face flushing with nervous heat. This is my chance. There’s no telling how long he’ll be here. I try to block out Sally-Anne’s animated giggles as I prepare myself. Deep breaths. This is it. A quick drink, one more breath, and I am standing up, ready to take the long walk across the pub, when I feel my companion grab my arm in earnest.  
  
“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” Sally-Anne asks with wide eyes.  
  
“I was going to ask him out…” I say slowly, pointing out the obvious, “That’s why we came.”  
  
“Oh, please.” Sally-Anne gives a little giggle. “We came here for him to ask you out.”  
  
I stare blankly at her. “Has anyone told him that?”  
  
“You’re a hoot,” she says, giving me a smile that could be meant for an ignorant child.  
  
“But Susan said – ” I begin.  
  
“Oh, you’ve stayed in touch with Bones?” Sally-Anne asks as she habitually touches up her lipstick. “How is she?”  
  
“Good, good…” I say, biting back the urge to finish with “in bed.”  
  
“Well,” Sally-Anne goes on, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t know how Susan Bones gets her boys, but for a straight collared conservative bloke like Longbottom, you have to play the lady.”  
  
“Bloody patriarchy,” I mutter under my breath.  
  
“What was that?” Sally-Anne asks, her voice dripping with sugary propriety.  
  
“Nothing.” I smile innocently. “Just… being a lady.”  
  
Susan had told me to let my friend take the lead, so I grit my teeth and obey as Sally-Anne rearranges me on my barstool, touches up my hair, and insists that I laugh every thirty seconds. Well, I obey until she excuses herself to the ladies room.  
  
Neville is sitting at a table alone on the other side of the pub, sipping mead and flipping through a stack of papers. I don’t know how long I have before Sally-Anne returns, but this may be my only chance to talk to my crush without the patriarchy police.  
  
I play out my little preparation again at double speed – deep breaths, quick drink, one more breath, and then stand for the long walk. This time nobody stops me, and I am standing over Neville’s table before I have formed what words to say.  
  
“Hello?” Neville looks up at me in surprise, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes.  
  
“Hi,” I say in a small voice. “Hannah Abbott. Do you want to, like, um, maybe date me?”  
  
He blinks. “Sorry?”  
  
“Or dance?”


	11. You Name It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "You Name It" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

 

  
_Yeah he’s got it_   
_Oh you name it_   
_Yeah, he’s got it_   
_He’s even got me_   


  
  
Neville and I stand outside my flat, our second date drawing to a close. The afterglow of tender laughter and sweet nothings flicker between our eyes as twilight descends around us.   
  
“I had fun,” Neville assures me, the quiet affection in his smile warming me like an embrace.  
  
I nod vigorously in response, my tongue caught up in the conflict of unspoken words.  
  
Neville cocks his head at me. “I haven’t seen you so quiet for years.”  
  
“I really like you,” I whisper to the night, my eyebrows knit in restless uncertainty. “You’re so… you. Solid and reliable and straightforward.” I can’t help but smile as I think of all the things that make him Neville. “But I… I have a lot of complicated.”  
  
Neville regards my face for a moment and then nods in understanding. “The polyamory thing.”  
  
I can’t look him in the eye, but I echo his nod in reply. Silence hangs between us, stretching thin until the fighting spirit breaks out of me. “But you know, polyamory isn’t really all too different from so-called normal relationships,” I begin rapidly, “I mean, it’s about teamwork and trust and communication and – ”  
  
“I know,” Neville cuts me off with his signature brevity.   
  
“Wait, what?”  
  
“I’m friends with Luna,” he reminds me with a simple smile.  
  
“Oh! Right. You know, Luna’s my metamour. I mean, she’s my girlfriend’s girlfriend. And I’ve really only been with Susan for a while. So really I’m totally ready for new connections and relationships, and I think – ”  
  
“Hannah.” My attention is captured as Neville raises his voice for the first time in the evening. “You don’t have to convince me to want to date you. I’m already there.”  
  
“Oh? Oh. Wow. Well then… You’ve totally got me. I mean, I’m yours. I mean, you don’t like own me or anything – I’m still with Susan and I’m still an independent woman, and – “  
  
“Hannah. If you would like to slow down I would very much like to kiss you.”  
  
“Okay. Yes. Let’s do that. Kissing now.” I close my eyes and squeeze my hands tight in childish anticipation. I cannot contain the smile that has taken over my giddy face, and as Neville’s lips reach mine, all that I can taste is joy.  
  
“Okay,” I whisper as our lips pull apart.  
  
“Okay?” he repeats, ducking his head down to see into my eyes.  
  
Even as I blush at my own foolish behavior and speech, I find that it doesn’t truly embarrass me. It is different, yes. He is different and I am different around him. Just being near Neville Longbottom makes everything inside me that was once quiet begin to fractal into new, endless patterns and thoughts and feelings. Every word that comes haphazardly tumbling out of my mouth feels like a discovery, and I don’t want to miss a single one.  
  
My hand is cupped around the back of his neck and I try to slow down my breathing to match the pace of his sturdy warmth. “Okay.”


	12. Lilacs and Violets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "Lilacs and Violets" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

  


  
_And now there’s nothing left but lilacs, violets_  
 _Dreams of yesterday_  
 _Better give them lots of love_  
 _For soon they’ll fade away_  


  
  
My heart is overflowing with the joy of my blossoming relationship with Neville, and I can think of nobody I’d rather share that joy with than my Susan. Susan, who opened me up to just how much love I am capable of. Susan, whose smile out-shines the sun, and yet somehow makes it seem brighter. Susan, who somehow never fails to be exactly what I need.  
  
I knock on the door of her flat out of habitual courtesy before unlocking it with my own key. “I brought peppermint cocoa and popcorn!” I announce as I slide inside.  
  
The flat is dark and unusually quiet, the characteristic songs of Susan’s soul missing from the air. I instinctively quiet my breath to match the surrounding atmosphere, entering on cautious tip toe. I arrange my gifts on her small kitchen table, set out to greet her on her return.  
  
As I turn to take my leave, I stop mid-pivot as I recognize the tussled heap of blankets on the bed as Susan. I take a moment to process than it is her and that she is awake. I am caught in my tracks, at a loss for what to make of this situation.  
  
“Susan?” I whisper, approaching her with uneasy caution. “Are you alright?”  
  
My question seems ignorant in the face of the obvious answer. I do not expect a response and she does not give one.  
  
I cross to the bed and pull the distressed hair out of Susan’s eyes, my fingers tenderly cupping her face. Her eyes are wide, as if waging a staring war with an unseen enemy. Her lips are chapped and her cheeks hold the marks of recently dried tears.  
  
“Charice left me,” Susan reveals, her voice faded to an echo of its typical radiance.  
  
I have no words to comfort her as I stand above my love, her heart aching with the pains of rejection. Her despair seems to leak out of her, soiling the surrounding space with stains of insecurities I’d never thought to look for in her eyes. It soaks the blankets, drips from the mattress, seeps across the floor and into my flesh.  
  
Even as I grieve at seeing Susan in such intense pain, my heart is also touched by the awareness that I am seeing a new side of my dear one, as intense in her pain as she has always been in her joy. Her pain is not beautiful, but her unguarded heart is. Even in her suffering she offers me that heart in all its vulnerable honesty.  
  
I open my mouth to comfort her, but anything I can think to say feels woefully insufficient.  
  
Instead, I step out of my shoes and climb under the covers with Susan, wrapping my body tight against hers. I want to ask her if this is what she needs, but my voice can’t seem to break through the density of the air around us. All I can give her is the beating of my heart pressed against hers.  
  
Susan clutches at my hands and pulls my arms tighter around her.


	13. Look of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "Look of Love" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

  
_I remember his warm embrace_  
_And the tender look on his face_  
_Look at the way he looks at her now_  
_Isn’t that the look of love?_  


  
  


“Over here, Neville!” I call out as I lift myself onto my toes, calling to my sweetie over the surprisingly active bustle of the Welsh Herbologists Convention.

“You found them?” Neville hurries towards me, rubbing his hands together in buoyant anticipation, our hour-long quest through the convention tables coming to an end. “Oh no, Hannah.” Neville’s face falls as he sees the table I’ve led him to. "This is gurdyroot. I was looking for the goosegrass specialist.”

“Oh, whoops.” I try to make my most endearing smile through the blushing of my mortified cheeks. “Well, they shouldn’t make the names so similar for things that look alike!”

Neville tilts his head in genuine consideration, “Actually, neither of those things are really that -”

“Just let me have this one,” I blurt out, grabbing his hand and batting my eyes at him in entreaty. 

Neville can’t help but laugh. “Of course, lovely. You can have this and every other ‘one’ you like.”

Now it is my turn to laugh, a delighted giggle as I swing our arms back and forth together. I can feel the warmth of his smile as he leans over to kiss my temple and we begin to weave our way through the crowd.

“We’ll stop by the Welcome Witch again before we leave - she should be able to point us the right direction.”

I peek a glance at Neville through the corner of my eye as he says this, a knowing grin forming on my lips. “You’ve sure made good use of her today, haven’t you?”

Neville’s face doesn’t change. “Sure, I stopped by a couple times. I found her very helpful.”

“Mm-hmm.” I nod in mock innocence. “Very helpful. And pretty.”

I watch Neville carefully, studying how his brow furrows and his pace gradually slows as he tries to puzzle through the meaning behind my words. Then, quite suddenly, he stops and turns to face me, dropping my hand.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about,” I encourage him cheerfully. “It’s exciting to see you taking an interest in someone else.”

I watch the disconnect flare between Neville’s eyes and mouth as he struggles to find words, his typical adorable stutters lost under the sounds of the crowd. Then, instead, he takes my hand again and pulls us behind the closest booth. I become aware of the weight of my own breath before I realize that the sounds of the crowd have faded away, apparently under cover of a quieting charm.

“Hannah,” he says slowly, “I really appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it’s not necessary.”

“Of course, it’s no rush.” I squeeze his hand in sunny camaraderie. ”You don’t have to hurry into anything until you find someone with a good connection. But... from where I am standing, the way you look at her and the way she looks back does look a lot like that kind of connection.”

“Hannah,” he begins with a deep breath, “I love you. And I love the way that you love. All of the ways that you love - me and anyone else. But that’s not the way that I love. No matter how I look at anyone else, I don’t want any connection but the one I have with you.”

“Yeah, but - “ I halt mid-protest, unsure what I am even arguing. He loves me with such a full selfless devotion and it’s the last thing in the world I want to dispute. Some small part of my heart is disappointed that I can’t take him on a mirror of the sublime journey Susan has led me through. But now, looking up into the steadfast tenderness of his eyes, only one question seems to matter.

“Kisses?”

“Of course.”

Our smiles grow as they lean into each other, and they do not fade for the rest of the night.


	14. I'll Be Standing By

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "I'll Be Standing By" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

  
_Whenever you need me, baby_  
_Whenever you want me, honey_  
_Whenever you call me, sugar_  
_Whenever you need me, I'll be there_  


  
  


“Left! There! Gogogo!” Susan cheers me on.

“Aw, fuck!” we both rush to duck under the table as the Exploding Snap cards on the table flare to life, sending sparks in every direction. 

Through the legs of the table, I see that Susan has practically slid off of her chair and is clutching the table for fortification against her rabid giggles. I rush to her side, pulling her up into my arms. Her stomach and chest convulse in an unrelenting rhythm of ecstatic laughter, each spasm pressing into my body as I lead her to the sofa. 

We collapse together with our arms and legs carelessly intertwined, our heads tilting loosely towards each other, allowing us to caress each other with our eyes.

“What time is it?” I ask in a reluctant whisper.

Susan cranes her neck to see the clock I know very well is on the wall behind me. “Quarter to four. What time did you say your Leaky shift starts?”

“Later…” I croon, willing myself never to have to leave her flat.

As the excitement of our afternoon fades into snug peace, the thoughts that have been lingering in the depth of my mind seep to the surface, and there’s nobody I’d rather discuss them with than Susan. “Neville and I, uh, started talking about getting a place together.” She regards me with polite curiosity. “We agreed it’s too soon, of course, but I think it is something we want to do.”

“That’s wonderful!” Susan’s glow of compersion warms me, while somehow also leaving me with the sense of something unsaid.

“Do you think,” I falter at my own hesitation, “it’s odd that’s never come up with us?”

“Of course not.” She smiles patiently. “I thought you knew I didn’t want any of that.”

“Yes, I know you say that,” I stumble over my words, “and it’s all well and good. But I see things with Neville progressing and growing, we pass landmarks and I understand where we are. But with you - “

“Those landmarks aren’t so much on my map. I’m more of an offroad girl.” Susan’s smile is simultaneously self aware in its mischief and agonizingly enchanting. “We just want different things.”

I feel my stomach threaten to tumble out of my gut at her words.

That was it then. The end. Our incompatibility unmasked. My illusion shattered, my naivete laid bare and mocked. The girl who had changed my world and radicalized my heart leaving me behind because I failed to become as radical as her.

“So that’s all?” My voice is suddenly hoarse as I brace myself to fight back tears.

Susan hardly seems phased. “That’s all. You want the kind of partnership with dedication that Neville gives you. And I want the kind of intimacy with independence that you give me. Wanting different things is just part of being different people, and between the lot of us we can find a place for all of those wants.”

“You’re not going to leave me because we’re not, you know, meeting the normal couple milestones?”

An unexpected laugh bursts out of Susan. “Hannah, precious. The one thing that would make me want to leave was if we were somehow hitting normal couple milestones. You,” she kisses my head, “And I,” another kiss, “are in a beautiful place. And I will be in that place for you as long as you want me.”

“Oh lord, thank you.” My arms squeeze themselves around Susan more quickly than I can realize they have left my sides. “Please never leave me.”

Susan’s surprise at my outburst is as gentle as the caress of her words. “I’m not going anywhere.”


	15. It's My Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "It's My Party" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

  
_It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to_  
_Cry if I want to, cry if I want to_  
_You would cry too if it happened to you_  


  
  


“Happy Birthday, Hannah!” 

Susan leans in to kiss me farewell, a kiss that is at once a ‘hello’ a ‘goodbye’ and an ‘I love you.’ As her lips pull away I can’t help but wanting to freeze the moment, to keep her by my side, to keep this night from ending. 

But my field of vision inevitably morphs from her mahogany eyes to her full form, complete with Luna’s arm linked loosely with hers. They look so picturesque together, Susan’s luminescence and Luna’s iridescence complementing each other as naturally as light dancing off a mirror. 

“It was wonderful having you both here,” I assure them, and the truth of that statement fills my chest with an unexpected warmth. 

There was a time when I wasn’t certain I’d ever be comfortable being around Susan and another of her lovers, but tonight I am only thankful for it all - that I can have the most honest and complete version of Susan in my life, and that Luna is a part of that.

My farewell wave turns into a spin, and that spin becomes a dance. The number of those who came to celebrate my birthday tonight has thinned, but the usual Friday night crowd of the Leaky Cauldron dances on, surrounding and filling me with contagious exhilaration. I know Neville is still somewhere in the pub, but in this moment I am celebrating my birthday with me. 

The dance floor is throbbing with unfamiliar faces and bodies, but music and sweaty vigor unites us all. I am at once alone and surrounded, and I find that between those states of being I feel completely free. I dance for myself and I shout the words of songs I do and do not know, and the strangers around me do the same, their distant worlds burning with a radiance that fuels mine on. 

I dance until I am sent panting out of the throng to grab a water from the bar, where it must be twenty degrees cooler than the dance floor. I down my water and take a steadying breath. I am ready to share my birthday joy with Neville in sloppy words and slurred kisses. 

I bounce over to Lydia, who has her shoes kicked off as she sips her drink. “Have you seen Neville?” I ask her, the spring in my walk echoing in my voice.

“Uh, yeah.” She peeks over my shoulder as if for confirmation. “I think he stepped out with Judith?”

“Oh, great. Out where?”

“You know -” she hides a blush as she speaks to my feet. “Out. Like you and Susan sometimes do.”

I open my mouth to thank her or to question her or something in between, but neither my mind nor my mouth can produce a coherent syllable. I turn away from Lydia without a word. I don’t care if she finds me rude. It doesn’t matter what anyone here thinks of me, not when what I think of Neville has so suddenly changed.

Everything is happening at once. The party is spinning around me and Neville is telling me he doesn’t want anyone else and Ernie is kissing his secretary and I’m wrong about love again.


	16. Just Let Me Cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "Just Let Me Cry" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

  
_He said good-bye._  
_Just let me cry._  
_Hide every lovely flower from my sight,_  
_Don't let that dreamy moon come out tonight._  


  
  
I sit in my flat alone, knees pulled up against my chest, back pressed against the wall. Neville and Ernie swirl together in my mind, the separate pains they have caused me seeming to augment each other as they share space in my fractured heart. 

I had thought that becoming polyamorous would mean I’d never feel the pain of betrayal that Ernie had once caused me. Ernie had been untrue to an implied promise of fidelity. Neville was untrue to the most earnest declaration of love I’ve ever heard.

Carefree laughter wafts in through closed curtains. The unbridled joys and concerns of passers-by mock my gloomy seclusion. I make no effort to reach for my wand or drown the unwelcome sounds out. Instead I shut my eyes tight, as if blocking out the visual world will have a corresponding effect on my aural surroundings.

The world seems to conspire to prove me wrong with a knock at my door.

I do not move.

Another knock.

I will not move.

“Hannah! It’s me, can I come in?”

Susan. 

I make no effort to admit her or to decide if I want her to leave.

“Hannah. I know you’re there.” Her voice seeps through the cracks of the door, prodding around in the darkness to find me. “Say the word and I’m gone. But if not, I’m coming in.”

I involuntarily find myself counting in my head to the rhythm I know must be ticking away in her own mind: one - two - three - four - five - six. It’s always six. 

Just on cue the door cracks open and Susan appears, silhouetted in light that threatens to flood my dim sanctuary.

“Oh, Hannah!” She rushes forward and slides down beside me, mirroring my position, her hand fumbling over my adjacent arm and leg as she searches for the most comforting touch. 

“I am so sorry,” comes the inevitable sympathy. Here we are again. I have been betrayed again and Susan is here for me again and I don’t know how long I can endure this cycle. 

“What am I going to do?” My question is at once a whisper and a wail, for her and for the darkness of the night.

“You’ll get through this,” Susan encourages me with a resilient squeeze of my hand. “And you’ll be stronger and bring new knowledge into future relationships and - “

“Don’t.” My raw voice stops Susan before my mind registers the objection. “I don’t need your perfect words. I don’t need your mystical understanding and faith in how relationships are supposed to be. Not now.”

“Of course.” If Susan is hurt or disappointed she hides it well. “What do you need?”

I have no answers, only the tormented thoughts that have been brewing in my mind since last night. “I tried it your way,” I say, my voice low. “I believed in goodness and love and that people are full of both, and I’m right back here where I started.”

“I know it hurts, Hannah.” I recognize from the tone of Susan’s voice that every muscle of her body yearns to embrace me. But she holds back, focusing that energy into her words and her grip on my hand. “You’ll get through this, I promise. You are strong and - “

“No.” Again, I stop her. “Not now. Tomorrow. Tomorrow you can tell me I’m strong and beautiful and help me believe in love again.”

“And tonight?”

“Tonight…” I consider, my eyes wandering the dark room as if searching for misplaced constellations. “Tonight I need to weep and whimper. And if I can still love and be loved in the morning, I know you’ll be the first to tell me.”


	17. Judy's Turn To Cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "Judy's Turn To Cry" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

  
_I sat down and cried my eyes out_  
_Now that was a foolish thing_  
_'Cause now it's Judy's turn to cry_  
_‘Cause Johnny’s come back to me_  
  
  


I open the door expecting to see Susan, but somehow am not surprised to find Neville there. I am surprised that my demeanor does not change.

“I don’t want to see you,” I inform him bluntly.

“I know.” His shame is palpable and I have to remind myself not to pity him. “But I had to tell you - “

“I’m not interested in your excuses.” Yes, that’s it, Hannah. Don’t let your guard down, don’t let him in.

“Me neither.” What was that? “And I don’t have any excuses. Only apologies.”

I am thankful he does not make me vocalize my begrudged desire for elaboration.

“I was so wrong,” he confesses. “Not just in what I did, but obviously that too. See, I always thought polyamory was for other people. But even then, I didn’t totally understand it. I didn’t understand how anyone could want someone else when they were already in love. I tried to imagine -“

“Oh, that’s what all that was? You trying to be honest behind closed doors and off-white lies?”

“Yes - no!” Neville lets out a moan of frustration. “I never meant for it to go that far. I was just imagining. And looking. I had just about decided it wasn’t for me when I found myself alone with Judith and there was that spark -”

“So you just had to strike a match?”

“It was just one kiss. But I knew it was wrong.” His words are so heavy with a remorse that knows it warrants no forgiveness. “I was wrong. I tried to discover myself in secret with a stranger instead of in the light with you. I told myself you would be supportive if you knew, but I didn’t allow you that. I was thoughtless and I hurt you.”

He is right about that. There is a wound deep in my chest. A knife which Ernie left in me long ago, and now Neville has unknowingly stumbled upon the blade and given it a twist. I see a sincere depth of caring in Neville that Ernie lacked, but that only makes it hurt more that this pain could come from somebody so seemingly trustworthy.

“I’ve never wanted you to suffer, and I cannot excuse myself for being the cause of it.” His words carry the weight of finality. He stands in awkward stiffness for a moment and then, nothing left to say, he turns towards the door.

Ernie hurt me and I left him. Now Neville has hurt me and he is leaving me.

“Wait!” I blurt out.

I do not know if my demand carries a decision or a question. But I know I do not want him to go.

We stand facing each other in expansive silence. Questions simmer within and between us. Would I have wanted him to stay had he not tried to leave? Would I have slammed the door in his face if I had the chance? Would I have regretted it?

But there is only one question worth asking.

“Can I trust you again?”

The moment stretches on as I watch Neville search for the perfect words, the most sincere expressions of his earnest heart.

As he finally opens his mouth, my words outpace his; “Oh damn it all to hell, yes I fucking forgive you.”

The air between us is suddenly flooded with a blend of shock and relief, our regrets for the past mixing once again with our hopes for the future.

“But this Judith.” I say the name with as much measured tolerance as I can. “Is she someone you want to see more of?”

“Well…” Neville scratches at the back of his head, “Apparently when she said she liked that I was in an open relationship, she meant she expected me to leave that relationship when I found she was better. Which, you know, I didn’t.a”

“Whoa. How’d she take that?”

“I think she’s at home crying and cursing my name.”

“That, uh, suddenly makes my weekend seem much less original.”


	18. Maybe I Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "Maybe I Know" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

_I hear them whispering when I walk by_  
_He's gonna break her heart and make her cry_  
_I know it's me they're talking about_  
_I bet they all think I'll never find out_  
  
  


We are a daisy chain of ice cream cones and lovers. Neville holds an ice cream cone in his right hand, and my hand in his left. Susan's right arm wraps around my waist as we each sport our own cones in our left hands.

The trickle of weekend shoppers parts around us like water giving way to a rock. Some roll their eyes at the inconvenience, but most don’t think to look up from their routine as they proceed from errand to errand. One woman, however, widens her eyes as she nears us, her head snapping from one of us to another. Her jaw spasms in indecision as she fights whether or not to speak, and then she hurries past us, her head down.

"What was that all about?" Neville asks, watching her rush off over his shoulder.

"Oh, her." I can't help but laugh. "Regular customer. She came up to me during my shift last night and very seriously warned me about you. Word on the street is you've been going out with two ladies at once."

Neville and Susan throw back their heads in joint laughter.

"How long do you think it'll be until she picks up that Neville needs the same warning about you?" Susan winks.

I maintain my smile, but I can’t help but become increasingly conscious of the perceived judgements hidden in the silent glances of our fellow shoppers. "That's right, keep walking," I mutter under my breath at a man whose gaze lingers too long for my liking.

"Don’t worry, love.” Susan rubs my back reassuringly. “People don’t spend nearly as much time thinking about your life as you think. They’ll just assume whatever’s easiest - probably that you and I are just friends.”

“Oh yeah?” I shoot back with more passion than I knew I had invested in this subject. "Why is it they assume Neville's my boyfriend and Susan's just my friend?" I look down at our web of touches. "In what world is an arm around a waist more platonic than a hand hold?" I demand. "A heterosexual bullshit world, that’s where! Do girls have to kiss every other step to be validated as lovers? Or - ”

"Your anti-patriarchy rants are showing a bit early tonight," Susan teases. "You sure they didn't spike your ice cream?"

"Maybe that's it!" My face lights up. "No, not booze - I'm having an allergic reaction to the heteronormativity of the fucking Cristlehorn Creamery!"

"Oh me, oh my," Susan responds in mock seriousness. "What would you prescribe, Doctor Longbottom?"

"Well, unless there are any autoimmune complications, I believe this reaction should clear itself up in no time," Neville mirrors Susan’s tone. "In all my years, I've never found a surer palliative for heteronormative patriarchal bullshit than our Hannah Marie Abbott."

I squeeze my two lovers close to me. The movement was apparently too abrupt, as Neville’s ice cream grazes my hair, leaving me with new highlights of balsamic and strawberry. I make no effort to tidy myself - so what if people have one more reason to stare. 

We parade down Diagon Alley, arms filled with ice cream and love, feeling unstoppable at our private intersection of outsiders and don't-give-a-fuck-about-it-ers.


	19. Summer Symphony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "Summer Symphony" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

__

_Tonight, my love_  
_Hold me tight, my love_  
_As our hearts compose_  
_A summer symphony_

I can’t get Nat into our rented room fast enough. We had a lovely dinner, catching up on each other’s lives in the months since we’ve seen each other. But I only have her until the morning, and I don’t plan to waste a second of that time.

Time and movement blur together. My lips dwell on her cheek with the softest insistence. The breath that escapes my mouth is an aching pledge, a rallying battle cry, a supplicating request.

As the door clicks shut behind us my hands dart straight for the buttons of her blouse. I remember myself and look up at her. “Is this okay?”

“Fuck yes it is.” Her fevered breathing reflects back the burning hunger that rages inside me. 

In a moment our clothes are a heap of discarded fabric upon the floor just as we are a heap of flesh upon the bed.

Our reunion has all of the fumbling awkwardness of a first night together, and all the tender familiarity of countless similar rendezvous shared. Just as friends who have not spoken for months fall into a ready pattern, our bodies rediscover each other like it was yesterday.

My hands move on their own, knowing this terrain well. My lips trace down her arm, lingering on her wrist. She pulls me back up to meet her face, her teeth tugging on my lower lip ever so gently. My fingers twine their way through the hair at the base of her head, my thumb pressing firmly into the side of her neck. She likes it when - wait, no! That’s Susan.

I release my hand at once. “I’m sorry!”

Nat forces a smile, shaking off the unpleasant memories I know that my touch triggered. “It’s fine - don’t stop.” She guides my hand to exactly where she wants it, and I set to work again, more gentle and conscientious this time. 

She reacts in body and voice, her moans and wetness edging me on. “More,” she whispers. “Harder.”

I obey, abandoning reserve and timidity and giving my all to each and every demand of her quaking body.

We gradually find our rhythm again, through groping around for the memory of who we are together as we rediscover the dos, don’ts, and don’t fucking stops of each others’ bodies.

The hours ebb and flow, another one slipping away every time we are certain we cannot take any more, only to find ourselves unable to keep our hands off each other. 

Each time that I become aware of the seconds of the night ticking away, the only thing I can think is that I don’t want to leave a single part of her unsatisfied. “What do you want?” I ask as we lay side by side, breathing heavily from our latest round of aerobics. “Anything, really. Just say the word.”

Nat tongues her lip in playful thoughtfulness as her eyes wander the room, searching for inspiration. “Actually,” it comes to her, “I would kill for some mozzarella sticks.”

I blink at my partner, unfathomably exquisite in every way.

“Well then - mozzarella sticks it is!” I decree with a laugh. 

The night is not yet over and there is at least one more way I can satisfy my lover.


	20. It's Gotta Be You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "It's Gotta Be You" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

__

_It's gotta be you,_   
_And nobody else_  
_Don't tell me that I'm_  
_Just fooling myself_

I bolt up in the chair as I hear the door creak open. “Neville!” I call out in a flurry of anxious relief.

“Sorry, sorry - I didn’t mean to wake you,” he stumbles over his words and his feet as he closes the door behind himself.

“I was worried - you didn’t owl.”

“I know, I know, I’m a duffer. I didn’t realize I’d be out late.” His earnest eyes beg for apology, and I can’t help but soften at the sight.

I know Neville’s schedule as well as my own, and he’s typically at my side like clockwork on our nights. The only sporadic adjustments to that have been the dates that I, Luna, and even on occasional the more elusive Rolf have helped set up for him. But of course! Here I was worried about curses that left my partner lying limbless in a ditch somewhere, but now that I see his tender blushing face, I can’t believe the obvious escaped me.

Once again my brain is rushing miles ahead of reality, and I am already fantasizing about meeting her, wondering if she prefers exploding snap to gobstones, hoping I’ll finally have someone interested in visiting the muggle cinema with, glowing at the thought of the adventures Neville has ahead of him.

I demand my brain to slow down long enough to ask him, “Did it happen? Have you met someone?”

Neville’s jaw slacks slightly in surprise. “Actually… yeah.”

I can barely contain my excitement. “Well? Is it good?” Neville’s attempts at dating other people have had some ups and downs, but nothing that looked like it could last more than a few dates.

“Good? It’s… amazing.”

“Oh my goodness, tell me everything this instant Mr. Longbottom!”

Neville rubs the back of his neck as he averts his eyes awkwardly. “I really should have told you a lot sooner. I’ve never known anyone like her - I guess I just didn’t know what to make of the whole thing for the longest time. But now I know. She’s, well... I want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

I can feel all of the warmth and joy draining from my body. I can’t hate Neville for finding someone so wonderful, I can’t blame myself for opening the door for him to do just that, and yet at the same time I can’t not regret everything. “Oh,” I say, trying to keep my voice upbeat. “That’s wonderful. I’m happy for you both. Really.”

“Hannah.” He lifts my chin with gentle touch until we are eye to eye. “It’s you. It’s always going to be you.”

My eyes widen, and after the roller coaster of emotions of the last five minutes, I no longer know what I am feeling. “I don’t understand.”

Neville falls down onto one knee and pulls out a ring, a position that leaves no room for misinterpretation. 

“Hannah Marie Abbott, loving you has been an adventure that I never want to end. You are the first sunshine that I see in the morning and the last warmth that I feel at night. I never want you to not be part of me.”

My eyes dart between his eyes and his knee, and I find myself at a total loss. “But I thought - you’ve been dating, it’s been good!”

“I have. At your sweet instance. And with every date I’ve been asking myself what I’m looking for and why. And I can only ask those questions so many times before I understand that every answer is you. I love how you understand your needs and seek out the perfect person to meet each of them. Believe me, I have done the same thing. Hannah, you are my perfect person. I want you as my romantic partner, my sexual partner, my cooking partner, my lazy partner, my party partner, my comfort partner, my today partner, my tomorrow partner.

“Hannah Abbott, will you be my everything partner?”


	21. I Just Don't Know If I Can

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "I Just Don't Know If I Can" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

__

_I shouldn't want you anymore_  
_But I want you more than before_  
_And I just don't know if I can_  


My hand lingers on Susan’s door. I’ve knocked on it a hundred times, and then walked right in without announcement countless times more. But now things feel different. My hand wavers between the doorknob and the knocker, wondering where it belongs.

Susan pulls the door open a moment after I knock. 

How long did she know I was there? 

“Are you okay?” 

What does she see in my face?

I search for pleasantries, for any other topic of conversation than what weighs on me, but I can find none.

“Neville asked me to marry him.”

Susan’s smile doesn’t falter, but it doesn’t grow either. “How do you feel about that?”

I can’t help but feel irritated by Susan’s unfailing agreeableness, so casual in the face of something so huge. “How do I feel about it? How do you feel about it?” I demand.

“That depends entirely on you,” she responds in a tone of infuriating patience. “If it is what you want, I will congratulate you. If it’s not, I will help you work through that.”

I sigh. Most people wouldn’t think to greet such news with anything but congratulations. Most partners would never consider doing so. And here perfect Susan is, offering to say anything I want, and I don’t know what that is.

“He wants to be monogamous.”

“I see. Does he want you to be monogamous too?”

“He said I don’t have to, but - I just don’t see how that could work.”

Susan conceals a laugh and I want to resent her for it, but I see the truth in it. What a ludicrous thought, that after everything I’ve learned about love and partnership, that there’s a single thing that can’t work if people who love each other want it to.

“You’re so perfect, Susan. And perfect for me - in all of those unfathomably you ways. But not in the Neville ways.”

Susan seems unaffected. “That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“Supposed to? Supposed to! I know what marriage is supposed to look like. Everyone knows that. And it doesn’t include having a girlfriend on the side.” I am instantly ashamed of my words. I can’t bear to look at Susan and see the mark my feelings have left on her face. “But I also can’t imagine letting you go. Not for a moment, not for a lifetime.”

The silence that weighs down the room is suffocating, and yet I dare not say another word. I can feel a chasm growing between us as my dreams threaten to diverge from her needs. 

Finally Susan speaks, her voice smaller than I’ve ever heard it. “Luna is married.”

I let out a frustrated moan. I don’t know how to do any of this, and now I’ve upset Susan with my own uncertainty. Insightful, beautiful, sensitive Susan, who once would have whispered words of world-shatteringly simple wisdom in my ear, whose heart I now threaten to fracture in return. I yearn for those days when she would pick me up off the floor and show me the beauty in her way of living. 

But that is not what I need now. I know what the rules of Susan’s heart are. It’s time I figure out what my own are. Of all the swirling conflicting desires of my mind and heart, how do I put my world in sync with what’s inside me?

Susan places a hand on mine. Her touch is as gentle and supportive as ever, but she cannot hide the uncharacteristic timidity from her voice. “What are you going to do?”

I take a deep breath, trying to channel her typical self assured confidence in my words, though I cannot in my tone. “The same thing I do every other moment of my life. Make a choice.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banner by .amaris@TDA  
>   
>  _Lyrics from "Start the Party Again" by Lesley Gore_  
> 

__

_Now everybody's gone_  
_Honey put some records on._  
_I kick off my shoe, let down my hair_  
_And we'll start the party again_  


“Happy New Year!” I shout after the last of the guests leaving the Leaky Cauldron. It’s been a long night and a closing shift on New Year’s Eve is no joke, and yet I don’t need to fake the joy in my voice. Every bone in my body is tired, but it’s with a weight born of joy and gratitude for a fun night and a full year - nothing I would prefer to be without.

I dim the lights with a flick of my wand, my sleepy eyes relaxing in relief. The tavern is quiet for the first time all day and I half dance, half float as I make my way between tables, gathering up glasses and straightening chairs.

“Do I get you to myself at last?”

All at once I am not alone again, and there is not an inch of me that wishes otherwise. 

I have not forgotten about the room upstairs in our name, of the promise of delayed midnight kisses and much more to follow. A smile teases my cheek. I maintain my pace as I walk through the pub finishing my duties, but my wrist works twice as quickly, commanding spell after spell to complete my work.

My breath catches in my throat as a pair of arms slip their way around my waist, curve up my body and stretch out to my wand hand. “Let me help you with that.” I am melting in my beckoning lover’s arms, my body and mind weakening beyond the capacity to form a coherent incantation. A lingering kiss on my neck from behind and yes, I am far too weak.

“You win - I can finish in the morning.”

I hold no resentment as we climb the stairs hand in hand. There is nowhere I would rather be or nobody I would rather be with in this moment.

As we find ourselves secure in our room and in each other’s arms, all my thoughts of sleep abandon me. Our kisses do not have the electric stamina of past evenings, but tonight they are as thick and warm as honey; a speed that lulls, laced with a sweetness that energizes. 

In this moment, we are everything to each other all at once. We are first time lovers, we are lifelong companions, we are the first hello after years apart. The touch of our skin on each other carries the resounding truth of everything we have ever been and will ever be to each other, echoing through every time we have and haven’t touched.

The moment gives way to suspended silence as I pull off my stained work robes and take in the look on my partner’s face. I no longer blush when somebody sees me naked. But I do blush when that somebody looks at me like I am the most beautiful sight their eyes have ever beheld.

“Shutup and kiss me,” I say, burying my flustered face in the lips mine have been yearning for all day.

Nothing else matters in this moment.


End file.
